Vagary
by Twincestuous
Summary: Vagary- An extravagent, erratic, or unpredictable notion, action or occurance. ”Rosalie, you’re pregnant.” If it was possible for me to faint, I would have.


**(****Midnight:**** Well, finally. So happy to get this out — I was crazy with anticipation while we were both writing. But you can all thank Bryana for the idea for this, because she told it to me one night on Skype, thinking it was crazy, but it turned out to be freaking awesome. I am just the humble author she agreed to collab with. It all goes to her.**

**Whispers:**** Well, crap. I still can't believe my random theory ended up a story. I also can't believe Mack thought it was good and suggested making it into a fic! I was so shocked, I literally fell off of my bed. Anyways, hope you enjoy.**

_**Disclaimer: We own nothing, simply our insane ideas about vampire babies. Yeah, we don't know either.**_**)**

It was a cold, snowy night in Rochester of 1933. A young woman lay in the middle of an abandoned road, broken, bare and bleeding heavily. She was blonde with blue eyes — undoubtedly beautiful, even in this pitiful state. Her shoulders heaved as she sobbed, thick, salty tears pouring from her eyes.

Quite suddenly, another blonde appeared near her, this time male. His hair was a bit fairer than hers, and his skin much paler. His eyes were a curious shade of gold and, though he looked fairly young, he exuded a sense of wisdom, as though he had seen the years passing. He stood a bit away from her, watching her wearily. Slowly, cautiously, he approached her and the female jumped and scrambled away, wincing as she did so. Immediately he stopped moving, one hand reaching towards her helplessly.

He spoke quietly, "I am Carlisle, a doctor. Please let me help you." There was a tense moment of silence before she dropped her arms and nodded softly. Carlisle stepped towards her, as slowly as before and stopped when he was directly in front of her and crouched down. He glanced at her for permission and when he got it he proceeded to check her over.

Muttering to himself all the while, he prodded at her, examining her injuries and bruises. He brought out a kit, trying to sew her skin back together in some places and snipping at other places. All the while Rosalie lay perfectly still, waiting for the pain to go away, to die.

"Rosalie…you will not make it the night. Not unless I do something drastic, something only I can do," Carlisle said gravely.

"What? What do you mean? How do you know my name? What are you talking about?" Rosalie asked, becoming more and more hysterical with each word she uttered. Carlisle sighed.

"Will you allow me to help you?" he asked. Rosalie hesitated before nodding shakily. Abruptly, he scooped her up into his arms and held tight.

"I'm going to be running extremely quickly. You might want to close your eyes if you get motion sickness," Carlisle said. "I'll explain when we get there." She obediently closed her eyes, seemingly calm, but if you were to look closer, you would be able to tell she was terrified. Terrified about being in a man's arms, terrified about what he would do, terrified about what the future would bring.

She felt the wind blowing her hair, felt his legs steady pace, and was able to tell they were indeed going much faster than should be possible. Yet there were no irregularities in his breathing, no sign of him being winded. Once more, Rosalie felt a flicker of fear at this strange person taking her to an unknown location, but was almost instantly soothed; this Carlisle gave her a feeling of comfort, and she knew instinctively that he would not purposefully cause her harm unless the situation called for it.

Carlisle tapped her gently, saying, "Rosalie? We're here now." She jumped; Rosalie had not felt that stop at all. Opening her eyes, she noticed they were at a normal house; it was unexpected. She hadn't thought she would end up somewhere so…mundane. Awkwardly, she tried to climb down, but Carlisle kept a firm hold on her.

"You are much to injured to walk by yourself," he told her gently. I'll carry you." And he did just that, brining her into the house, up some stairs, through a door and finally resting her on a bed.

The pain was fading, finally ending. Rosalie sighed; she would die soon. The pain would leave and she would be free to rest. She felt something on her neck, ripping through the skin, but she thought nothing of it.

And then suddenly the pain returned full force, coursing through her veins like a white-hot flame. She shot up straight on the bed, her limbs flailing as an ear-piercing scream made its way from her throat. Carlisle was watching her from a corner, his eyes looking troubled, as though he wanted to cry.

"It _burns_!" she shrieked, fighting desperately against the agony traveling through her body. Was this supposed to be happening? Wasn't the pain supposed to go away if she was dying? Her eyelids fluttered helplessly, as though the shocks were taking over her body, her system, changing her.

Rosalie felt herself slipping out of consciousness, but fought it. She wouldn't do what the pain wanted her to do. She tried desperately to cling onto her memories, hoping they wouldn't escape her.

How superficial she was, even mere hours ago. She had worried about having to change the wedding to indoors, but how could that matter when faced with this bitter anguish?

She remembered Royce's sneering face as he forcefully took her and how she hated him, but what was that emotion when compared to this pain, cascading in waves through her body, burning wherever it touched.

She remembered her mother and father's proud faces; proud of their beautiful daughter, proud she would be of use to them after all. They would be able to use her for their own gain, whether it be money or even a new house. How stupid she had been, to assume they were proud of her! No, it was her face they were proud, and she felt a pang of contempt for them, which was quickly overridden by the suffering she was faced with.

She remembered her two younger brothers, never satisfied with life the way she was, yet in so many ways, much better off. They were not faced with this gift, this curse, of beauty. No, they were simply average. She wished now she could've been so plain, so boring. The pain wouldn't be here if she was normal looking.

A stab of the pain centered on her kidney region, and she shrieked again, loudly. She felt like there was something wrong, as if her body was shutting down on her.

She slipped out of conscious, her eyes rolling as she did so.

When Rosalie woke up later, the pain was by no means better. Rather, it was ten times worse. Yet she didn't scream, biting her tongue to ensure this. Screaming, she had realized, made no difference. It didn't help, so why waste her breath?

Suddenly, Carlisle was sitting on the bed and she automatically flinched away. _Had he caused her this pain?_ she wondered. She decided that if he had, there was no other reasonable choice; his eyes portrayed too much sorrow to have wanted this for her. Out of the corner of her eyes, she thought she saw two shadows looming in the corner, but one she glanced again there was nothing there.

"Do you want to know what's happening?" he asked and Rosalie quickly nodded.

"Yes," she moaned. "What is this? What've I done to deserve this?" Carlisle was momentarily taken aback, but he took it in stride.

"It has nothing to do with things you've done. You are changing into a vampire, like the rest of my family."

Could that be true? Could she really be changing into a vampire? But then, she reasoned with herself, vampires were mythical creatures. There was no way! Nodding internally at her conclusion, she dismissed the thought from her head. It must be her; God knows that she led a less than saintly life. If only she could take it all back now.

She could not tell the time, had no idea whether it had been days or hours. She felt as though her body was being dragged in different direction, ready for all of her limbs to be pulled apart, inch-by-inch. Slowly torturing her, Rosalie thought she was going inside. She was tempted to retreat into a little corner of her mind and curl into the fetal position, never to be heard from again. But that was losing, something that Rosalie Hale absolutely never tolerated.

A new determination sparked through her, temporarily getting through the pain. She would take this, no matter what. She allowed herself to completely feel the pain, and immediately felt like her muscles were being torn from her body. She squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth, only allowing soft whimpers to come through her lips.

Carlisle came again, this time with two others. One was female and had soft brown hair and the same golden eyes and pale face. The other was male. He had a reddish-brown shade of hair, and his eyes were dark, nearly black with a little gold tinting the edges. He too was pale.

"This is my family," Carlisle said. "This is my wife, Esme Cullen and my son, Edward Cullen. They are the other two vampires I was telling you about." Rosalie automatically disregarded the last comment, her eyes immediately going to Edward's. To her intense displeasure, he simply glanced at her and looked away.

This was unusual, unthinkable even. _Every _male lusted after her, why would this _Edward _be any different? That was what she prided herself on, the only thing she had going for her. They had retreated from the room, and Rosalie heard them whispering furiously in the hallway.

"What were you thinking, Carlisle?" Edward said. "Rosalie Hale?" She didn't like the way he said her name, like there was something wrong with her.

"I couldn't just let her die," Carlisle said quietly. "It was too much- too horrible, too much waste."

"I know." Rosalie thought he sounded dismissive, and it angered her,

"It was too much waste. I couldn't leave her," Carlisle repeated in a whisper.

"Of course you couldn't," Esme agreed.

"People die all the time," Edward reminded him in a hard voice. "Don't you think she's just a little recognizable, though? The Kings will have to put up a huge search — not that anyone suspects the fiend," he growled. It pleased her that he seemed to know who had done it.

Slowly, Rosalie began regaining the feeling in her body. It ached still, but it was going away, slowly, surely. Her heart began beating erratically, and suddenly she was frightened again. It felt like a hand reached inside her just and squeezed her heart, cutting off her circulation. It squeezed tighter and tighter still.

Finally, she let out an ear-shattering scream as her heart gave its final beat.

Rosalie stood perfectly still for a bit before she shakily got to her feet. The first thing she noticed was that everything was much clearer. It was as though there was veil covering her eyes before, one that had been removed. She could easily see the dust swirling in the air.

The next thing she realized was she couldn't remember much about what happened before. All of her memories were blurry, all but the tragic event that had occurred three nights ago.

Next she perceived her wedding dress was lying on a chair not too far from the bed she was previously on.

After that, she noticed there was a mirror in the room. Her destination set, she headed to the mirror and gasped. In the mirror was a girl with straight blonde hair and piercing red eyes. She had full lips and high cheekbones. She was tall and willowy, beautiful. This girl was pale with bruises under her eyes. This was her; this was Rosalie.

She contemplated these strange differences for a few moments. And suddenly a burning filled her throat. She clutched her neck and ran down out the door and down the stairs. Carlisle was waiting for her with a thick cup and straw. Not bothering with thanks, she snatched it and drank deeply. Whatever it was, the most alluring scent was coming from it, tempting her so. Quickly she finished it and licked her lips.

And then disgust filled her. That must've been blood. Surely, she must really be a vampire then! Carlisle watched her come to this conclusion and sat her down on the couch; he explained what she was, and their family's feeding habits. He also welcomed her to stay, and after a few tense moments she agreed.

Slowly, Rosalie proceeded back up the steps and into the room she was in before. Once more she went to look in the mirror. An evil smile stretched across her face slowly and she turned to face the wedding dress.

_Oh yes,_ she thought wickedly. _Royce and all of his friends will get what they deserve._

_*break**break**break*_

Rosalie

I stalked back through the forest to the house…. Well, I suppose it was _my_ house now, as well. It was still very difficult to think of it so. It was so much easier to imagine my own home — the brick house on the corner of the street. It was probably only a few minutes or so away, given my new speed. But I didn't dare visit it — no, too many memories, too many reasons to try to stay.

What once was my future wedding dress was now tattered and ripped. Dirt and moss clung to the hem, staining the soft ivory with a mud brown that made the satin cringe and wrinkle. Though the dirt did not take any way from the eerily beautiful image, the same image that struck Royce and his friends with fear and adoration in the same moment. Golden blonde hair, bright red eyes and a terrifying smile, illuminated only by the sheer light of the full moon. That was probably what they all saw before they died. At least their last images were ones of a beautiful maiden, such as myself.

I quietly slunk back to my room, my heels making soft clicks on the soft, carpeted stairway. As I entered my room, the first thing I saw when I closed my door was myself. Still, even now, seeing my image reflected back at me surprised me so much more than it did. I could have been so much more beautiful than I was back when I was human. Yet I still sauntered around like I was the center of the world.

I wanted to smack my past self. _You are not as beautiful as you could be!_ I wanted to say. _You can do so much better!_ My face was so much clearer now, my hair so much silkier, so much brighter. My movements were much more refined, much more graceful than the stupid human ditz I once was. I held myself proud and high, and I was higher in the status of people than any mere mortal could hope to obtain.

I shed my ruined gown and left it there as I ventured to my closet. Not much was in it — perhaps a few of Esme's old gowns, both for public eyes and simple sleepwear. She had told me she would go shopping for gowns as soon as possible, so I would just have to make do with what I had.

I chose an ivory lace one that ended at my ankles. It had no sleeves, just thin straps on either side, simply there to connect the back of the dress to the front. I slid it on, noting the tightness of the dress in the hip and chest area. Obviously, Esme and I were much different in our builds, her being slender and my being curvier.

I had lain on the bed that was there, trying to curl up into a deep sleep, but I knew it was useless. Carlisle had said that vampires did not sleep, and that's just what I was: a vampire. A monster.

_But it doesn't matter_, my other side argued. _You are beautiful and more graceful than you could of ever hoped to be as a human._ While she may have been right, it didn't take away from the fact that I wanted a child. I wanted an adorable baby boy that I could coo and tease. I wanted a little girl who I could call _princess_ and dress up. But now I would never be able to have that. It would simply be impossible. I almost began to dry-sob — apparently, I can't cry either — but then I remembered my dignity.

_No,_ I scolded myself. _I will not cry. I will not be weak._

Just then a knock sounded at my door.

"Are you decent?" I heard Edward say.

"Enough."

He opened the door, and I almost grinned at the exasperated expression when he spotted my clothing. He also eyed the ragged dress that lay in a heap on the floor in disdain. He sighed.

"_That_ is decent enough?" he questioned rhetorically, picking up the dress up off the floor. He shook it out and folded it, laying it on a chair. I scoffed, rolling my eyes at how he was treating such a ruined dress with such gentleness.

"Well, it covers what it needs too, doesn't it?" I asked, my voice prim, as I had been taught to keep it.

"While it does do that," he began, bringing up a stray chair and sitting next to the bed, "it is not proper for a lady to be in the presence of a man in her nightgown that is not her husband or betrothed."

I smiled slightly. "Do you believe I truly care about those things? It is not lingerie, now is it? No? Well, then I believe it is modest enough." I sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed out the wrinkles on the nightgown. I avoided his eyes, for reasons I wasn't sure why, but I had this feeling I would get quite spiteful if I did.

_Why do you care?_ I asked myself. _Why does it matter if you are rude to this boy?_ Truly, I didn't know why. I suppose I was having a moment where I was trying to be polite, though it did not make much sense why I wanted to be polite to _him._

"I see," he said, offhandedly.

We both sat in silence for a few ticks; it was uncomfortable, yes, and there was this tense edge in the air that made me uneasy. I suppose that had I been human my stomach would have been rolling, but in this case, it was perfectly silent and slender, and I supposed I liked it better that way.

"Rosalie," he began sharply, and I almost jumped at the sudden voice in the silent room. "You should realize that I did not come in her just to converse with you. I came here for a reason." He swallowed before continuing, his eyes cold. "Carlisle and Esme expect that we will mate with each other, and hopefully, you are fully aware of this. If you are not, then you are now.

"Rosalie, I hope you understand that I have no intention of mating with you. I can already tell that we are not soul mates because otherwise we would already be completely infatuated with each other, and they should know that. However, we are not mates, and Rosalie, I am going to be straight with you about this. I am not lusting after you or infatuated with you in any way. I am not going to feel sorry for you because of the incident that happened to you. I neither dislike you nor am fond of you. If you can get that through your vain skull, I believe we should be able to stay out of each other's way." And with that, he stood up and swiftly left the room.

…He. Did. Not. Just. Say. That. To. _Me._

I was so stunned he would say all those things to _me._ _ME._ The one _everybody_ wants. So…why doesn't he? Is there something wrong with him?

_Yes, that has to be it,_ the vain part of me said. _He has some kind of mental issue. That's why he doesn't find me attractive!_

It half calmed me, as pathetic as was. It calmed me to know that I was not unwanted because I was simply the dislike of another man. But no, it was because a malfunction of his mind.

I was also angered. I needed an _excuse_ to have a man not want me for my body? It angered me a man would not want me in general.

It was a bit naïve and shallow-minded, I suppose; I was only a simple woman, wasn't I? Was I not allowed to not have every man in the world lusting after me? I knew I was vain, though, and I did not mind. I quite enjoyed my being of pig-headed-ness — it made my world somewhat…more peaceful, simpler.

And in this new world I was recently thrust into, simplicity and peace was one thing I wished for more than anything.

**(Midnight: Yeah, the lateness is my fault. It took me **_**forever**_** to finish the inspiration I had for this. Also, this is a concern I've been worrying myself about sick — WE'RE SORRY IF IT SEEMS UNREALISTIC. That's kind of the point. We know this would **_**never**_** happen if it was supposed to be realistic. It's a brilliantly random idea — props to Bry — that makes a hell of a lot of sense. Please try to make sense of it. And more will be explained in the future.**

**…I just realized, we haven't even gotten to the confusing part yet. Stupid, Mid, stupid…**

**Whispers: Lmfao. Mid, you're having a spaz again. Anyway, the excitement's coming soon ya'll! Stay tuned cause next chapter'll be a bit better than this one. And — unless I'm mistaken — chapter two is where it really gets good!**

**Don't know 'bout ya'll, but personally, I can't wait!)**


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